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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380565">13th Frostfall</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kartaylir/pseuds/Kartaylir'>Kartaylir</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bloodplay, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, For a certain value of monsterfucking, Ritual Sex, Sex in the Blood of their Enemies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 16:02:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,623</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380565</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kartaylir/pseuds/Kartaylir</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“ —and the creatures created or summoned there may plague Tamriel for eons. Most wise men choose not to wander this night.”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>~Daggerfall Chronicles entry on the 13th of Frostfall</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Female Dunmer Vampire/Spider Daedra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Return to the Iron Triangle - January 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>13th Frostfall</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimaracretak/gifts">kimaracretak</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>"As known in the West, Mephala is the demon of murder, sex, and secrets. All of these themes contain subtle aspects and violent ones (assassination/genocide, courtship/orgy, tact/poetic truths); Mephala is understood paradoxically to contain and integrate these contradictory themes."</em>
</p><p>~Vivec and Mephala</p>
<hr/><p>The night was cold, lit only by the brightness of stars this far from Holds or other civilization. And far too still. No wildlife darted back or forth, to leave their footprints upon the snow.</p><p>And the footprints of whoever had ventured out to one of the caves here were already half-blown away by the wind. The cave itself was too clean, too bare of the usual detritus. No relics of bandits and animals. No webs, no fur of wolf or bear. No bones stripped clean of meat and left to bleach in what little light crept down between stone and snow to light the floor of the cave.</p><p>Now, all that those glimmers of starlight showed was an Altmer bound in the center of the cave. His hands were tied behind his back, and his mouth silenced with a strip of cloth torn from his Thalmor robes. No bruises marked his face, no clear signs of wounds. He kept his eyes closed and his posture proud.</p><p>Behind him, the rest of the cave was still in shadow, with the figure of a woman barely visible within. Her crimson eyes shone in the darkness as she stepped forward. The shadows fell away to reveal blue-gray skin, cheekbones high and stark on the face of seemingly-youthful Dunmer. Tattoos curved red lines across her cheeks and under her eyes. A chitin dagger waited in its sheath at her side, and her clothing was equally simple. Just a silken shirt and black pants that would provide little defense against the cold. But she did not shiver. In truth, she barely seemed to breathe.</p><p>The Thalmor started at the soft sound of her footsteps.</p><p>She waved one hand and the cloth from across his mouth. He turned too quickly to stare. “Curse Veloth and all who followed him,” he said, though his voice wavered.</p><p>She smiled then, fangs white against the soft purple of her lips. “Your curses hold no power on this of all nights, dust of the earth-bones. These shadows are not yours to claim.”</p><p>He began to whisper a spell beneath his breath and she lunged, too fast for the eye to follow. She wrapped one hand over his mouth and the other held the now-drawn dagger against his spine. He did not struggle within her grasp, too calm as if some magic had touched him as well.</p><p>And the dunmer stepped back from him in turn. With another wave of her hand she lit torches at the cave’s back. Snow and frozen ink, frozen blood, melted down into a circle etched into the floor. A spiral within it, inscribed with Daedric words. And within the center of all of it rested leaves of bittergreen and petals of nightshade atop a sealed letter. The faint outline of words visible through its thin parchment.</p><p>She loosened her grip and let the prisoner fall to the floor as she drew lines from him toward the circle.</p><p>Then she slipped off her shirt, slid her feet free of her shoes and pulled off pants and undergarments in turn. Bare, exposed amid the snow.</p><p>The Altmer gasped. Her throat was fang-scarred and pale. A spider decorated one ankle, and on her back a spiral pattern was drawn with a spider’s web. Interlocking words, patterns obscured or forgotten, all written upon bare skin.</p><p>“Webspinner, she said. “Black Hands Matron, Prince of Exquisite Death. You have ever known my deeds, known all the offerings I have brought before you. Accept this newest among them, and show me the favor you granted in my first youth.”</p><p>Torches sputtered; the circle sparked and turned to black.</p><p>The Thalmor could not even muster a cry as the dagger found his throat, cut itto spray blood over dirt and flesh. Her mouth dripped wet with its taste.</p><p>And the blood spilled forward onto the circle to turn it crimson.</p><p>Then, a flame. It grew tall for an instant and then all the lights flickered and fell into darkness. And within that darkness a deeper shadow formed.. Long legs jutted forth from a spider-like body, with the armored torso and pale face of a woman above. Chitin covered her small breasts, black as the hands of her prince.</p><p>A spider daedra, most volatile among Mephala’s servants.</p><p>“You are brave,” the daedra whispered. Her voice was soft as a siren’s song, and as keen to draw one closer. “Brave and foolish, little penitent. Bow and perhaps I shall let you live.”</p><p>“Not so foolish as that,” the dunmer said. Blood ran from the dagger in her hand down onto the snow, and shone in what little light there was as much her fangs did.</p><p>“So someone still know the rites.”</p><p>“I summoned you for sex-death on the bones of an undying world. For the secrets only flesh can tell. Of course I know them.”</p><p>“So few remember such, these days. But what do you offer in return, little elf, little shadow tainted by fire and stone?”</p><p>The dunmer spoke without hesitation. “Blood of the powerful. The darkness of those kept unknowing. To undo the ambitions of the Prince of corruption. To lay souls and death into Mephala’s hands.”</p><p>“So the first price is paid. The spiral winds ever tighter.”</p><p>“And twists further around us all.”</p><p>Finally, the dunmeri woman moved. Sheathed her blade in the snow and stood unbowed before the Daedra.</p><p>And found herself met with a kiss. Then the daedra lifted her body with two sharp limbs, held her close against its pale flesh. Such was as cold as her, as cold as a vampire.</p><p>“I ask for no name, and will give you none,” she said to the daedra’s breasts. “Tonight, weave delights and shadows. Let me bring my penitence.”</p><p>“Then share blood as well as flesh.” The daedra lifted one hand, this limb more akin to that of man or mer. It brushed the blood from her face and fangs, drew it down across gray skin to black chitin. Traced out old sigils and brushed it across both their breasts. The blood was already drying sticky between them.</p><p>Another kiss, longer, the tastes of Oblivion and fading copper intermingled.</p><p>The kiss broke as the daedra, the beautiful spider, tilted her backward. Let spider limbs scrape faint traces of blood from dunmeri flesh, pulled it down between gray thighs. Let the curved lengths of chitin rub across there, so slowly at first.</p><p>“You’ve done this before,” the daedra said. “It’s marked so many secrets in your flesh. Things that have survived all of Vvardenfell’s devastation.”</p><p>“Perhaps.” She rubbed herself upon those chitinous limbs, let forth the faintest murmur of please. Dipped her fingers in the blood on her skin and then ran them down over black plates of daedric flesh. Laid kisses on the tip of the spider-limb that had crept up through her legs to rest an end across her stomach.</p><p>Faint strands of silk slid forth, though not enough to bind. Yet.</p><p>“A child of such tradition; of blood and ancestor’s promise,” the daedra said, with a strange light in her eyes. Her pale hands tilted the dunmer forward again, explored up over the that spiral tattoo and the bare skin that surrounded it. A long, black tongue snuck forth to lick blood from skin, to twist itself about the dunmer’s clit.</p><p>That earned a moan, the quiver of flesh. “That child is dead.” The words were near muffled by pleasure. “It is me you must contend with.”</p><p>“And you said you were not brave.” The spider-limb moved further inside, just sharp enough to tease. The dunmer shifted in that grasp to push herself upon it.</p><p>Her fangs tore at the daedra’s lips, drew forth black ichor to taste. This she drew across those pale cheeks, a streak of shadow over white eyes.. Spider-limbs skittered across the flesh of her back; gripped to lift her higher. A hand brushed across her breast, over the ragged-tooth scars of her throat.</p><p>“I leave such matters to others. I know the lock undone, forgotten poetry of the stars, hands black with blood and Red Mountain’s wrath.”</p><p>“And so the Velothi still serve.” The daedra drew another strand of silk tighter and smiled.</p><p>The daedra nipped at her neck, held her still. A few strands of spider-silk slipped from its legs to wrap around her. And that pale, almost mortal hand drew another line of blood down between her legs, raked nails against her thigh. Washed touch and magic across her clit.</p><p>She tilted back her head. Her eyes closed. Ichor and blood dripped from fangs and lips. A shudder, then silence. Snow dropped to the ground behind them, sodden with slow-melting.</p><p>“The full price is paid, little mer.” Another strand of silk, and the daedra laughed. Raised its limbs as if to strike.</p><p>The dagger unheld slashed across its back, neck, and throat.</p><p>“What a delight you are,” the daedra whispered, her mouth twisted into a grin as she folded in upon herself. As her silk fell away and she was banished again to the realms of Oblivion.</p><p>The dunmer knelt before this sight even as she drew the knife again to her hand. “I will mark myself in ash and shadow in your honor. Bear my deeds to the Webspinner swiftly. Perhaps in time we shall meet again. Such secrets are yet unknown to me.”</p><p>Then, she gathered her clothes and left the cave and its ashes behind.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This only came together because your requests inspired me to add more blood to it. Thank you!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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